Far below Philadelphia’s City Hall, boarding the subways on their return from the Lincoln Financial Field, were fans with names on their shirts. Those of Leroy Sane, Jamal Musiala and Joshua Kimmich, the players they hoped to see on 4 July. They had bought their tickets in the hope of a different match. France did not get the game they wanted, either, and not merely because a World Cup win over Germany would have been something to savour.
One with Paraguay was more one to endure than enjoy. There were parties elsewhere in Philadelphia, marking the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. This was something different: Nigglefest 2026. It was an exhibition of off-the-ball fouls, collapsing to the turf and scuffing up the penalty spot. It was designed to delay, to provoke.
It was, according to interpretation, either disgraceful, mildly irritating or a justified way of trying to stop a superior opponent. If Sweden could be accused of being too accommodating when they lost to France, the same charge could not be levelled at Paraguay. Every other opponent had conceded at least three times to the tournament favourites. Paraguay only let in one goal, and a penalty at that. But was that due to their underhand tactics or the genuinely excellent defending that surrounded it, but which will garner less attention?
Gustavo Alfaro, the Paraguay coach, said his side “fought like lions”. Some of the tactics were scarcely those **** ociated with the king of the jungle. Officially, though, they fought clean. That Paraguay only committed 13 fouls was laughable; for the first time in 28 years, they completed a World Cup game without getting as much as a booking, which could suggest their behaviour was immaculate. Instead, it said rather more about the frankly bizarre performance of Ilgiz Tantashev, the Uzbek referee, who seemed incapable of recognising Paraguayan wrongdoing.
That said, it was scarcely the battle of Philadelphia and more an extended exercise in s**thousery. There was a pettiness to much of it, a streetwise nature to parts of it. There were offences that stopped short of being deemed violent conduct. There were others designed to induce a violent reaction from France.
One with Paraguay was more one to endure than enjoy. There were parties elsewhere in Philadelphia, marking the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. This was something different: Nigglefest 2026. It was an exhibition of off-the-ball fouls, collapsing to the turf and scuffing up the penalty spot. It was designed to delay, to provoke.
It was, according to interpretation, either disgraceful, mildly irritating or a justified way of trying to stop a superior opponent. If Sweden could be accused of being too accommodating when they lost to France, the same charge could not be levelled at Paraguay. Every other opponent had conceded at least three times to the tournament favourites. Paraguay only let in one goal, and a penalty at that. But was that due to their underhand tactics or the genuinely excellent defending that surrounded it, but which will garner less attention?
Gustavo Alfaro, the Paraguay coach, said his side “fought like lions”. Some of the tactics were scarcely those **** ociated with the king of the jungle. Officially, though, they fought clean. That Paraguay only committed 13 fouls was laughable; for the first time in 28 years, they completed a World Cup game without getting as much as a booking, which could suggest their behaviour was immaculate. Instead, it said rather more about the frankly bizarre performance of Ilgiz Tantashev, the Uzbek referee, who seemed incapable of recognising Paraguayan wrongdoing.
That said, it was scarcely the battle of Philadelphia and more an extended exercise in s**thousery. There was a pettiness to much of it, a streetwise nature to parts of it. There were offences that stopped short of being deemed violent conduct. There were others designed to induce a violent reaction from France.
29 days ago
